


Disney Mix

by WithBroomBefore



Series: Exhibitions [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Disney Songs, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Music, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 01:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10349022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithBroomBefore/pseuds/WithBroomBefore
Summary: Otabek smiled at the cat. “My sister has renewed her campaign to get me to do Disney, but that’s not new.”Sasha tensed when Yuri laughed; he ran one hand along her spine until she settled again. “Which one?”“Hercules, this year. She’s gone back to the classics.” He considered briefly. “‘Go the Distance’ has some potential, actually.”Yuri leaned forward too quickly, delighted, and Sasha bolted. “Oh, that would be amazing. I watched it every week for six months when I was nine; Grandpa hated everything. Do it!”“Yeah?” Otabek was grinning. “I’ll think about it.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to [leftonlisa](http://archiveofourown.org/users/leftonlisa/pseuds/leftonlisa) for beta reading and enabling.

“I don’t know,” Yuri said. Idly, he stretched both legs across the floor and reached for his toes. “Yakov doesn’t care about the exhibition music. Lilia said, and I quote, ‘You’ve never had trouble exercising your appalling taste, so why start now?’”

From the screen beside him, Otabek snorted. “She’s not wrong. Don’t you have something obnoxious and angry?”

Yuri sat up again and shrugged. “Yeah, but this would be the fourth year of that. It’s not interesting anymore.” Having waited just long enough to be sure that his lap was properly available again, Sasha trotted across the room and settled into it. He obligingly buried both hands in her fur. “What are you doing, then?”

“I’m not certain yet.” Otabek smiled at the cat. “My sister has renewed her campaign to get me to do Disney, but that’s not new.”

Sasha tensed when Yuri laughed; he ran one hand along her spine until she settled again. “Which one?”

“ _Hercules_ , this year. She’s gone back to the classics.” He considered briefly. “‘Go the Distance’ has some potential, actually.”

Yuri leaned forward too quickly, delighted, and Sasha bolted. “Oh, that would be amazing. I watched it every week for six months when I was nine; Grandpa hated everything. Do it!”

“Yeah?” Otabek was grinning. “I’ll think about it.” He already was: Yuri knew the look. It was the one they all got in the first stages of planning a program.

* * *

He didn’t think about it again for a few weeks. It was still early enough that the exhibition routine was not remotely urgent, and he had plenty to practice that was. Yuri spent days with Yakov in the yearly round of trial-and-error that was developing the next season’s choreography. With it finalized, on paper if not on ice, he started packing for what had become a similarly annual flight to Japan. Halfway through the four-hour layover, his phone buzzed in his hand. It wasn’t a good video, but it was enough that he sat up in his plastic chair and laughed aloud. _!!!_ he sent back at once, and set about replaying it. The concept was ridiculous, but not, upon consideration, any more so than what anyone else did; it only seemed so when set against Otabek’s usual public style.

He turned on the soundtrack at first because the music in the video was spotty; he hadn’t listened to it in years and wanted to hear the song properly. It made a weird sort of sense: Otabek’s persona, as much as he had let there be one at all, had always been heroic. He could, Yuri decided, absolutely pull off the Disney prince thing, and Hercules was a perfectly reasonable interpretation. The choreography, rough as it was this early, was as serious as everything else he did on the ice; the only humor showed in the curl of Otabek’s mouth as he skated close to turn off the recording.

The soundtrack was actually a pretty good one, and he let it run. He still hadn’t picked a song. Otabek hadn’t been wrong: three years into the senior division, whatever the theme of his competition routines, he had stubbornly clung to the Russian Punk for the exhibitions. It wasn’t like he couldn’t stick with it. But Victor’s voice in his head said, _I skate to surprise people._ It would be, bizarrely, safe. He frowned out the window. _Otabek_ wasn’t making the boring choice. _“Get off my case,”_ Megara snapped through his earbuds. He had always liked her. The song ended; he tilted his head and went back to it. By the time the plane landed, the scrap paper in his carry-on was covered with notes. He had also sent a text: _I have an idea._ Otabek responded, _Oh, dear,_ (which seemed unfair. He had very good ideas sometimes) and then, _Are you going to tell me what it is?_ Yuri thought about it. _No,_ he replied. _You’ll see it eventually._

* * *

He ran it alone for a week, staying late after Katsuki and Victor left to start dinner. When he was certain that there was something to it, he derailed an hour of their morning training. “For context,” he said, shoving the video at them first.

Victor blinked. “Is that -”

“Disney,” Katsuki said, mouth twitching. “Hercules, ‘Go the Distance,’ I believe.”

“Yeah,” Yuri said. “It’s for his exhibition skate this season.”

“It’s...actually very good,” Victor decided.

“Of course it’s good,” Yuri snapped. “It’s Otabek. Anyway, this is mine.”

He actually really liked the song. It had a decent beat and just enough real emotion in it to be interesting, and the arc made for a good story. _“At least out loud, I won’t say I’m in love,”_ Megara concluded, and he let his posture soften to match the tone.

Katsuki laughed, but there was no note of mockery in it. “That was charming,” he said when Yuri skated over, brown eyes bright behind his glasses. “Does Otabek know?”

“No,” Yuri admitted. “I was going to have it be a surprise.”

“You’ve got that part down.” Victor was looking at him with a peculiar expression, but it wasn’t an unhappy one. “Tired of playing the punk, then?”

“It’s harder with the hair.” Yuri tugged at his ponytail. The hair brushed the back of his neck; down, it passed his shoulders.

Victor smiled. “True. You made your point with that.”

Yuri didn’t miss the shaved head. It had been done in a fit of pique; there had been one too many articles comparing sixteen-year-old Yuri to a young Nikifirov, and he had stolen Yakov’s buzzer and done a hideous but effective job of changing his image. Yakov had roared, though possibly about the abuse of the buzzer as much as about the hair. Lilia had looked at him with her fingers pressed against her lips for a moment. Then she had taken the instrument and cleaned up the haircut, fingers steady and odd against his scalp. When it was done, there was something like a subtle mohawk. Katsuki had looked at him with very wide eyes and said nothing; Victor had laughed helplessly for an unnecessarily long time. Yuri had taken care to be well-lit for the next Skype call and was gratified when Otabek blinked, tilted his head slightly, and finally smiled. He dyed the tips of the mohawk purple for the next season, but after that he trimmed them and let it grow out. The point, as Victor observed, had been made.

* * *

“So,” Katsuki said, a few days later. “We were thinking.” He and Victor exchanged a look, smiles with excitement bubbling behind them.

“That must have been difficult,” Yuri said, but without malice. Dinner was finished with and he was stretching lazily on the floor of their apartment.

“Very,” Victor told him loftily from the couch.

“The Disney thing,” Katsuki went on, ignoring them both. “Do you want it to just be a, a you-and-Otabek sort of thing? Because if so, that’s fine.”

Yuri touched his forehead to one knee, thinking about it. “No,” he decided, “Not necessarily. I just want it to be a surprise.” He had gotten an update that morning. Otabek’s choreography had solidified; his sister, apparently, was gleeful about the whole thing.

“Excellent,” Katsuki said. “Because if not, then - do you mind if we join? Not the same movie - there’s nothing good for pairs in it - but we thought ‘A Whole New World’ might work.”

* * *

The fact that it spread was, unsurprisingly, Phichit’s fault. What was surprising was that nobody let it slip until the first competition. Then people started to put it together. Otabek texted him, _Was this you? This was definitely you._ The attached blog post contained three video clips. It had gotten as far as JJ, somehow, and because he had no imagination the first was his ‘Let It Go’ routine. Phichit’s ‘You’re Welcome’ was, Yuri had to admit, a delight to watch; Katsuki had shown him the video with undisguised glee. Otabek’s was the last. Yuri had seen that one as well and had already texted his approval of the final result, but that had been before Otabek knew about - was it a plot? More of a meme, Yuri decided. _I don't know what you're talking about,_ he texted back firmly.

Otabek didn’t see his in person until the GPF. By then, it was out, and it had gotten ridiculous. Katsuki and Victor were as disgustingly earnest in their pair skate as they had always been. Guang-Hong’s ‘I Just Can’t Wait to Be King’ had been met, probably unplanned, with Christophe’s ‘Be Prepared.’ Kenjiro Minami had pulled of a surprisingly compelling ‘Reflection.’ It had even crept into the women’s routines: Mila had told Sara, and they had both gone for different adaptations of ‘Kiss the Girl.’

It wasn’t the first time he’d skated it in performance, but Yuri found that he was unaccountably nervous. It had been a joke, mostly, and it had turned out better than he could have imagined. But it was only mostly.

“‘At least out loud,’ huh?” Otabek had said, in the Skype call after the first video of Yuri’s routine went up.

Yuri had shrugged, looking down at Sasha’s blissful face, and said, “What did you think of the free skate?”

* * *

“So?” he demanded, when it was all finally done and they were walking back to the hotel. “Have I won a prize for rotten judgment?” They were both in street clothes and full makeup, Yuri’s braids tight against his scalp. Their hands were brushing as they walked.

Otabek, when he snuck a glance over, was smiling at his shoes. “You win a prize for something, anyway,” he said, wry, and caught Yuri’s hand properly in his own.

So that was all right, then.


End file.
